


In Gleaming Halls and Cold Rooms

by ForgottenChesire



Series: Kinktober 2019 [14]
Category: My Little Pony: Friendship is Magic
Genre: Eggpreg, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Praise Kink, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-15
Updated: 2019-10-15
Packaged: 2020-12-16 13:55:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21037310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ForgottenChesire/pseuds/ForgottenChesire
Summary: The suite is warm. And not just in the fact that it is physically warmer than the very cold halls. The walls are still stainless steel, bright under the drapes and other things hanging on the walls. The floors are still glistening tile but there are thick rugs on them. He takes another step in, the door closing behind. Big Mac is sitting at the table, the suite is more like a loft; the front room and kitchen and dining room mashed into one with a separate bathroom. With sure steps, surer than he actual feels, he walks over to his fiance, running his hands through short golden blond hair. Green eyes flick up to glance at him before going back to the table.





	In Gleaming Halls and Cold Rooms

**Author's Note:**

> Day Fourteen Praise Kink

The entryway is cold. Uninviting and sterile. Caramel isn’t sure how the government came to believe that forcing hopeful couples into this building, or any building like it, was healthy. It makes his fur crawl; what with the stainless steel walls and the glistening floors. Makes him feel like a subject under a microscope.

_ ‘Please input your name and the name of your breeding partner.’ _

The mechanic voice is chirpy, vibrant and echoing in the stark halls. With trembling hands, Caramel does as he is told. Caramel has no family to dispute the match, to argue with the fact that he and Big Mac are only engaged and not married and yet they are already trying for an egg. And Big Mac said that Granny Smith is okay with it, that she’s happy that Big Mac found someone.

_ ‘Caramel, Earthen class F, if that is you please respond.’ _

Class F. He hates that designation. He’s not fragile. He’s smaller than Big Mac yes, he’s even smaller than other Unicorn class men but he isn’t fragile. Still, he hits the ‘yes’ button as prompted, despite his hatred of the classification.

_ ‘Welcome Caramel, Big Mac is waiting for you in-suite 5A. We hope that your breeding is successful.’ _

He shudders at the happy mechanical words. Large double doors glide open, colder air rushing out to greet him like an old friend. _ Please let the suite be warmer, _ he thinks as he steps onto the elevator at the end of the long hall. There were doors all the way down, various lights on above the jambs. He tries to ignore the fact that a couple is behind each door, attempting to do what he is about to do. 

The trip up to the fifth floor isn’t a long one and the music that plays in the metal death box isn’t the type that can drive a person mad. And when the elevator slows to a stop and the door slides open he’s able to step out of it. It’s when he reaches that very first door, a bright and cheery yellow like his fur, that his stomach starts to roll. His hand shakes as he places it on the pad. It chimes, a single bright note, and the light above the door changes from white to green. With a deep breath, he enters the suite.

The suite is warm. And not just in the fact that it is physically warmer than the very cold halls. The walls are still stainless steel, bright under the drapes and other things hanging on the walls. The floors are still glistening tile but there are thick rugs on them. He takes another step in, the door closing behind. Big Mac is sitting at the table, the suite is more like a loft; the front room and kitchen and dining room mashed into one with a separate bathroom. With sure steps, surer than he actual feels, he walks over to his fiance, running his hands through short golden blond hair. Green eyes flick up to glance at him before going back to the table.

“Big Mac? What’s wrong?”

“Apparently, Apple Strudel wanted to make sure an heir was conceived tonight.”

He gestures at the table. There are four little cups of pills sitting on the wooden surface. There should only be two. One for him and one for Big Mac. But there are four. There are four. Big Mac must have sent them away. The red-furred male stands, towering over Caramel. His arms are thick and his legs strong.

“You sent them away.

“Eyup.”

“Celestia, I love you so much. Others would have loved the chance to have three lovers. But not you, all mine.”

Big Mac’s fur darkens, ducking his head. Caramel grins, nuzzlings all he can reach.

“I can’t wait to have your big strong cock in me. You’re so strong, bet you could take me right here,” he continues. He looks at those cups, there are multiple pills. He knows that one is an aphrodisiac, nows that it’s the tiny one he’s planning on tossing as soon as he gets Big Mac comfortable again. Reaching up he drags Big Mac down for a kiss. Words of praise are whispered between kisses, soft and sweet.

Pills are taken and clothes are shed. Caramel runs his hands down red-furred thighs. 

“You’re so strong. Honest and caring.”

He kisses those thighs, working his way up, Licking a long stripe up the crease. Nips at hip bones. Big Mac’s sheathe is bulging, no longer flat like a toy. He ignores that for now.

“I’ve seen you literal kick down a dead tree, rip its stump from the ground like you were pulling a weed,” his own dick twitches at those words, “and yet I’ve also seen you handle premie farm animals with such gentleness.”

Kissing up the toned stomach to lap at perked up nipples, Caramel grinds down.

“You don’t speak often, but when you do? It’s with intelligence. They look at you, Earthen class, lives out on the rolling farms, Class E. They think you’re dumb but you aren’t.”

Big Mac moans, yanking Caramel up for a bruising kiss. Hands grip his hips, fingers digging in and dragging down. A thick dick is poking out, head leaking.

“People think terrible things about us. But… none of that matters. What matters is this. _ Us._ The child or children that we are going to have. The eggs you’re going to put in m-”

They’re flipped, he’s on his back and Big Mac is inside him. It burns, it burns but his body is opening open up. It doesn’t make it hurt less, of course, but it means it won’t hurt more. He keeps one hand on Big Mac’s cheeks and the other grips him closer. Big Mac is pounding into. Oh, Luna, is he pounding into Caramel. 

The thrusting gets desperate, something is growing. And then Big Mac is coming. He can feel the eggs being pushed into him, collecting and sitting in him. They’re big but until fertilized they are flexible, able to squeeze up into his fertilization tube. At least, that’s what all the teachers say. He doesn’t care because, the feeling? The weight? It makes Caramel come hard. Big Mac kisses his lips, his cheeks, his neck. Nipping and sucking. Dick already getting hard again.

“Yes, breed me until we get pregnant. I want to carry your egg. I want to see tucking blankets around it. I want to hear you sing to our child.”

His hand scratches down, clawing and digging, Big Mac is making noises that do things to Caramel. It’s an erotic duet that they are making, loud and messy and them. They couple over and over, switching positions. Small breaks are had, meals eaten and stomachs rubbed. Caramel can’t wait to be a dam.

**Author's Note:**

> This story is part of the [LLF Comment Project](https://longlivefeedback.tumblr.com/llfcommentproject), which was created to improve communication between readers and authors. This author invites and appreciates feedback, including:  
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